


Far from Miami

by AndersAndrew, futagogo



Series: Miami Rick and Morty [1]
Category: Pocket Mortys, Rick and Morty
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Ass Play, Blow Jobs, Bottom morty, Character Study, Clubbing, Creampie, Dancing, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Hand Jobs, Incest, Jealous Rick Sanchez, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Morty is very sexy when he dances, Multiple Orgasms, One Shot, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Pet Names, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Rick Sanchez, Possessive Sex, Rick calling Morty Baby, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Social Media, Stripper Morty, Tipsy Rick, Top Rick Sanchez, Underage - Freeform, cum as lube, sex on the ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:29:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8816836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndersAndrew/pseuds/AndersAndrew, https://archiveofourown.org/users/futagogo/pseuds/futagogo
Summary: That night, they’d narrowly escaped a mob of pissed-off mafiosos that Rick owed money.Morty laid his head on the old man’s thigh as they drove, enjoying the quiet and the feel of Rick’s delicate fingers through his bleach-blond hair."With this much cash, the universe is our oyster, MoOURGHty!" Rick exclaimed.“I just want to dance.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Loin de Miami](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8342293) by [AndersAndrew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndersAndrew/pseuds/AndersAndrew). 



> Translation provided by [futagogo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/futagogo).
> 
> From the original author: I chose not to use Archive Warnings for this fic because Morty, being a stripper in this story, is understood not to be a minor even though it is never explicitly stated. (Nevertheless, I did opt to use the tag “Underage – freeform”)
> 
> I would also like to bring attention to [this piece of fanart](https://twitter.com/Magnta555/status/779563308265435136) (which does not show anything explicit but which is clearly NSFW) that gave me motivation when I hit a writer’s block in the last part of the fic!

Morty loved fucking.

Or, more specifically, he loved to be fucked. Roughly. By men, both young and old.

He had no qualms about it and didn’t bother trying to hide his preferences. His family, however, dealt with it as could be expected: His father was ashamed and avoided making eye contact with him. His mother disapproved of his so-called “poor taste in style.” And Summer—Summer was just envious of his number of Instagram followers, not to mention the thick wads of cash he brought back every night after dancing at the club. But as far as Morty was concerned, she could have it too if she just learned to shake her tail—literally and figuratively—instead of trying so hard to get into the most exclusive parties.

He was always telling her, "It’s all about making a name for yourself first!" Unfortunately, she didn’t have the patience for that. Morty, on the other hand, had worked hard to get where he was, and he wasn’t about to blow it by bringing his popularity-obsessed sister along with him, no matter how much she begged him. He considered himself a pretty generous guy, but even he had his limits.

Morty lived life like a bona fide hedonist. He let his desires lead him to VIP nightclubs or the beach, where he’d lounge around and soak up some rays. Every facet of his life oozed “easy, cool and sexy.” He had only to look among his adoring fans while dancing at the bar to pick out a stud for a one-night stand. Deep down, he didn’t give a shit about anything as long as he had money, sex, and admiration. It wasn’t for nothing that he’d become Florida’s most famous exotic dancer, even if sometimes it all seemed hopelessly meaningless.

Rick had even said so himself. He was the polar opposite of Morty: Rick loved solitude while his grandson reveled in the loudest, most crowded clubs the city had to offer. Rather than sunbathing, his old bones enjoyed relaxing on the beach and watching the sun set, blitzed out in a drug-induced paradise. Morty, meanwhile, had vowed to keep his body a virgin temple, at least when it came to substance abuse.

Not that Morty wasn’t tempted from time to time. If not for his resolve, he could’ve easily succumbed to the siren’s call of Miami’s many drug dealers. They crowded the street corners come nightfall, always stocked with the latest hallucinogens available on the market. Morty had good reason to suspect that Rick was one of their top suppliers.

But drugs weren’t what Morty wanted. He knew what he liked and found comfort in knowing that he had what it took to get it. His body was his ticket to having it all—money, sex, fame. So what was the point in risking it all for a few highs? He was still too young to willingly throw his life away.

Call him shallow or depraved, but that didn’t make him an idiot, despite what others may have thought.

All his life, he’d been told he was stupid by his parents, teachers, classmates, and sister. And, sure, he knew he wasn’t exactly the brightest bulb in the box, but he could dance.

He’d stumbled across his talent purely by chance but quickly became enamored with it—pole dancing, in particular, because of its undeniably provocative nature. People mocked him for it at first, but soon he became good—very good, in fact—and then they began to take notice. Lean muscle replaced baby fat, and little by little he grew accustomed to drawing every eye in the room. It was nothing like how he’d been before.

Dancing also earned him an enviable salary at an old ‘80s club. The club owner was hoping to boost their popularity by advertising new shows featuring young talent. So began Morty’s personal journey to fame, first starting out in trendy circles before more doors opened up to him.

Morty felt like his life had taken a dramatic turn for the better, and that he’d finally be happy...somehow.

But Rick called bullshit. He said that there was no substance behind it, that they were all just as deceptive—no, even more deceptive than the drugs he shot up or snorted. He told Morty that none of them loved him the way he deserved to be loved.

Morty’s heart swelled with an indecipherable emotion at the words. The gentleness in Rick’s eyes when he looked at him, the way he affectionately ruffled his bleached blond hair—that’s all it took.

Morty loved his life. He loved his fans, their whistles, cheers, and applause. He loved having fun, dancing free without a care in the world. He loved only looking out for numero uno, splurging on shopping trips with Summer to fill his closet—even if she was a pain in the ass, she was still his sister with pretty good fashion sense. And then there were the nights. He loved fucking all night until he couldn’t move.

Yet nothing could compare to the moments spent with Rick. Nothing was as sweet or as precious.

Nothing in the universe.

 

They traveled through the galaxies and dimensions, facing countless dangers and then hanging out afterward to unwind. It was always the same pattern: After scraping their way out of a particularly death-defying adventure, Rick would reward Morty by taking them to a random planet to party. Unbeknownst to him, the boy would’ve preferred spending alone time with Rick. Not that Morty could ever actually tell him this, not if he didn’t want to scare Rick away.

Rick loved Morty in his own kind of way, and he tried hard not to let anyone on to it, even when it was so painfully obvious. Especially to Morty.

Rick cherished his solitude. It let him revel in his uniqueness. Morty wondered if it was what allowed Rick to sleep at night in the face of knowing that there were countless other Ricks across the different dimensions, identical to him in every way.

For his part, Morty had cried for hours when Rick first took him to the Citadel. It was shortly after that that he decided to bleach his hair and make himself over. It might have been only a superficial change, but at least it made Morty feel better, and now he was living the good life.

Rick, on the other hand, didn’t work that way. He could spend hours in complete quiet, contemplating his own thoughts while looking out at a sunset, whereas Morty would ramble nonstop, desperate to keep the silence from settling in. Rick wasn’t bothered by such trivialities, and Morty knew he was above such hackneyed solutions that a boy like him relied on thanks to his fragile ego and less than stellar intelligence. When it came down to it, Rick probably didn’t give a rat’s ass. But in Morty’s eyes, he was unique, and that alone was enough.

That night, they’d narrowly escaped a mob of pissed-off mafiosos that Rick owed money. They’d managed to slip away just before things really went tits up and had lost their pursuers by ejecting them into space. Then Rick had gone back. He explained that he was counting on selling the mothership they’d just swiped for a bundle of schmeckles.

Morty listened to Rick speak, his gaze lost among the stars that adorned space beyond the cockpit windshield. It was no wonder Rick loved traveling so far, he mused. One had the impression of sailing through infinity where boundaries blurred. It almost made him dizzy.

Morty laid his head on the old man’s thigh as they drove, enjoying the quiet and the feel of Rick’s delicate fingers through his bleach-blond hair.

“With this much cash, the universe is our oyster, MoOURGHty!" Rick exclaimed.

The teenager knew full well that Rick didn’t care about the money; he’d only done it to please him. Not that Morty was complaining. He didn’t know how the exchange rate for schmeckles would work on planet Earth, but he’d worry about that later. They’d just gotten out of the woods, and Morty was happy to enjoy the lull.

“I just want to dance,” he said, closing his eyes and savoring the touch of Rick’s fingers in his hair.

Rick lifted his shades to look at Morty. Some of Morty’s glitter and foundation had been wiped away, and he had a small nick on one earlobe from a phaser blast. The hair around it was singed to a toasty golden brown.

“Okay, babe. We’ll swing by PZK-2005. I know a Rick who owns a cluUUGHb there. He’ll hook us up with free entry and drinks.”

“I’ll pass on the drinks,” Morty retorted. “It’s bad for my figure.”

Rick just snorted, dropping his glasses back onto his nose. “C’mon, beanpole, y-you could stand to put a little weight on you.”

“As if!” Morty huffed, sitting up again. “I could lose my job!”

His grandfather sighed, taking his hand away and fiddling nervously with the control lever. They were close, so close that he could smell the sweet scent of Morty and the heavy musk of sweat—a mixture that he found strangely enjoyable rather than revolting. But he knew better than to pursue the thought, afraid to look too deeply into the abyss lest he fall into it.

Punching the accelerator, he launched the ship through hyperspace just long enough to catapult them near PZK-2005.

 

The club was packed. The rainbow of strobe lights, blasting music, and holographic advertisements convinced Rick to take refuge at the bar, where he ordered a tequila without salt. He snorted a small line before turning his gaze back to the catwalk.

Pole dancing wasn’t Morty’s only forte. He was a gifted dancer, both on and off the pole. His graceful silhouette swayed amidst the crowd, drawing the spectators’ covetous glances like a magnet. It was exactly what he wanted. He knew how to arch his back just so and stomp his platform shoes on the dance floor, undulating and writhing like the snake charmer he was.

Rick was astounded by the transformation that Morty had undergone. He was no longer a shy and awkward teen, and Rick missed that sometimes. But the newfound confidence that Morty had was something he never wanted to take away from him.

He took a sip from his drink, feeling the heat spread throughout his body and lodge itself in his stomach. Morty, meanwhile, danced like a boy possessed, sweaty and frenzied, his long blond hair swishing about in all directions like a wild mane.

Rick frowned when a young man with green skin and four eyes in place of a nose approached Morty. Morty smiled at his new dance partner, placing his hands on the alien’s waist and brushing his pelvic fins in curiosity.

The scientist turned away, his mood instantly souring. It was none of his business who Morty chose to fool around with. After all, the boy had risked his life today. He had the right to do whatever he wanted, including being groped by some pimply alien. Rick was certainly no one to judge. He himself had slept with so many species that he’d picked up countless venereal diseases—so many, in fact, that they somehow managed to cancel each other out.

Rick signaled the bartender who was preparing drinks, one tentacle shaking a tumbler while another was busy uncapping a soda.

“Gimme anOOUGHther,” he demanded, pointing to his empty glass and unfolding a bill onto the polished counter.

 

Several hours later, Rick and Morty were headed back to Earth, stuffed into the ramshackle vessel that Rick had designed in the Smiths' garage. The scientist had chosen to park the mothership on planet PZK, claiming that if he brought it back to Earth, it’d get the neighbors’ panties in a knot. Morty, however, knew it was mostly to avoid upsetting his mother.

The journey took them longer because the smaller ship couldn’t travel as fast, but Morty didn’t mind. He was currently on cloud nine, his body still buzzing with electricity, deliciously spent and relaxed. He felt good: young, sexy, and in control.

If only Rick would notice, he thought. But the old man was hardly sober enough to drive straight.

It wasn’t like Rick to get completely sloshed during their adventures. Typically, he waited to be alone for that. Morty didn’t know why he’d chosen otherwise tonight, but whatever the reason, it spoiled the mood a bit.

Feeling unusually cocky, Morty dared to lay his hand on Rick’s thigh and leaned toward him, sniffing.

"You stink of tequila," he said. “What gives?”

"Don’t be a pain in my ass, MoOURGHrty," Rick snarled, his voice exceedingly hoarse.

A thrill ran down Morty’s spine, and he leaned closer, touching his moist lips to Rick’s chin, his hand slowly creeping up his thigh. “I wouldn’t mind if you were.”

Rick gave a dry, humorless laugh. “Now w-which one of us is drunk?” he stammered, his arms stiffening on the steering wheel.

Morty rubbed his hand over his crotch. “Tell me,” he insisted. “Tell me or I’ll leave you hard and blue-balled.”

“And what makes you think I won’t just ja-jAAUHck it in front you, huh, Morty?” Rick retorted.

“Oh, yeah? Prove it,” the teen dared him, biting his lower, gloss-coated lip. He kept caressing Rick’s cock until it began to harden.

“That’s enough!” Rick grabbed his wrist.

“No fair!” Morty pouted.

Rick lifted his shades to shoot him a glare. “You really are a little shit, Morty. Y-you think thAUGHt just because you’re hot as all hell that you can just f-fuck anything that casts a shadow?”

Morty rolled his eyes to the inky blackness of space and sank back into his seat, crossing his arms. “Y-you of all people don’t get to take the high road with me, Rick!”

“I wasn’t finished yet,” Rick snapped. “Listen. I’m just saying you should be a little more mindful of who you—URRP—lead on. You might bite off more than you can chew.”

The teenager tucked a wisp of blond hair behind his ear, eyeing him intently. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you—once I get started, I might not be able to s-stop,” Rick grumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Morty lowered his eyes and noticed the erection tenting the front of Rick’s pants. He licked his lips. “Stop doing what?”

“You don’t wanna know. Trust me,” Rick replied, baring his teeth.

But Morty only pressed closer, massaging his cock through his pants. Rick let out a strained moan, his eyes sliding shut against his will.

“It’s so hard,” Morty said. “Can I take it out?”

“D-do whatever you want,” Rick whispered in reply.

The boy was quick to pull down the zipper, releasing the stiff rod so that it stood at attention between his grandfather’s thighs.

Without hesitating or even asking first, Morty bent over and greedily took the full length into his mouth. He had never wanted to suck cock so badly. Rick's cock fit perfectly in his mouth as if it were made for it. Morty began to pump vigorously, mimicking the porn stars he’d seen online—the ones he’d watched while he was alone in his room, fingers lodged up his ass in frustration, refusing to moan the name that threatened to spill past his lips.

He wanted Rick to enjoy this. Nothing would make him prouder, not even mastering the marchenko rainbow or chinese flag. This was Rick, after all. Morty had always sought his approval, his affection... the strong embrace of his arms. But Morty had never felt he stood a chance of that—not until today.

Now, pathetic as it may seem, he was going to take advantage of his grandfather’s inebriated state to give him the blowjob of a lifetime. He hoped against hope to make Rick forget all reason and to do to him what he’d wanted all along: empty his balls into him until he’d had his fill.

“Oh, Godddd! "growled the scientist, throwing his head back against the seat headrest.

He carded his fingers through Morty’s blond locks as the boy bobbed his head up and down his shaft, getting even more turned on. The kid was like a starved man on his cock, desperate to gobble it down. It’d been ages since someone had given him such a zealous blowjob, and though Rick hated to admit it, nobody had ever done it like this to him before. That thought alone was even more intoxicating than the act itself.

Wet sucking sounds echoed throughout the cockpit over the purr of the engine, and it turned Morty on so badly, he nearly gagged himself on Rick’s cock in his enthusiasm.

Abruptly, Rick grabbed Morty’s chin and eased him slowly off of his cock. He savored every second, staring with amazement at the pink lips locked around his engorged member. He immediately regretted the loss when Morty finally released the head of his cock with a pop.

Morty whimpered and grabbed Rick’s pastel pink blazer with his small, manicured hands. He looked disappointed, even anxious. Rick stroked his cheek reassuringly and grazed his fingers over the scratches on Morty’s ear—battle scars that proved the boy’s unwavering devotion. All the blood pooling in his groin made Rick lightheaded, so he quickly switched on the autopilot.

“Y-you’re one solid cocksucker, Morty,” he growled, running his thumb over Morty’s lower lip. “But there’s nothing I want more than to shove my cock in that little ass of yours. WhAUGHat do you say we find someplace to park?”

Morty’s eyes lit up like it were Christmas morning. It was such a childish and unfiltered response, nothing like his earlier succubus persona, that it sharply reminded Rick of just how young Morty really was. Even though this was relatively low on the list of fucked up things he’d done in his life, a pang of guilt stabbed into him. Awkwardly, he began stuffing his erection back into his pants, but Morty stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

“Whatever you’re thinking right now, don’t,” he murmured low and sensual. He smacked Rick’s hand away to replace it with his own, pumping Rick’s shaft in slow, firm strokes. “B-better stay hard for me,” Morty said shakily, his cheeks burning. “I...I want it so bad, Rick.”

The old man stared at him in astonishment, his eyes going wide behind his tinted glasses.

Morty nibbled his bottom lip, a seduction technique he’d learned long ago that now came second nature to him. It seemed to do the trick because Rick lifted his shades, leaned down, and kissed him softly.

Morty froze.

Rick’s tongue gently mapped out the contours of his mouth, and when Morty parted his lips, they shared a passionate kiss that tasted of alcohol and strawberry lollipops, Morty’s favorite flavor.

“Y-you know I won’t be able stop if you keep going like this,” Rick growled, drawing back just far enough to bore holes into Morty’s eyes with his gaze.

“W-whoever said you had to stop?” Morty’s voice was small and nearly shaking under the strength of his own desire, his hand around his grandfather’s cock quickening its pace.

“Fffuck.” Rick’s eyes were ablaze and his arousal made his voice come out gravelly. “You little bastard, I’m gonna—”

But suddenly the ship crash-landed into a sand dune, sending them toppling over within the cockpit. The score of empty bottles in the backseat clinked against each other noisily.

When his dizziness cleared, Rick reached out to touch Morty’s head, checking him quickly for any sign of injury. Morty groaned and sat up. “What… What happened?”

“The f-fuck does it matter?” Rick grumbled, grabbing Morty by the back of the neck and crushing his lips to his.

The teen squeaked in surprise but quickly reciprocated, diving feverishly into the kiss. He wrapped his thin arms around his grandfather’s neck, and then Rick was on all fours on top of him, Morty spreading his thighs to let him in closer. When he scooted further back, however, the top of his head bumped into the passenger door, and it popped open on its spring-loaded hinges.

Morty fell back, still clinging to Rick, and the two tumbled out onto the dune together. The soft sand cushioned Morty’s fall, but Rick was tossed from their embrace and rolled partway down the dune before a patch of green and pink reeds stopped his descent.

Rick staggered to his feet but paused when he looked out at the landscape. After dusting off the sand from his fur coat, his grandson soon joined him.

“Wow,” Morty said, stuffing an apple lollipop in his mouth.

The planet’s sun was just beginning to set, casting the last of its purple rays over the blood-red ocean. Lilac and silver glinted off the water’s surface with every ebb and swell of its waves, glowing brighter as night approached. It was surreal, unlike anything on Earth.

Morty considered himself lucky. He sucked on the little green ball of sugar on his tongue, stealing a glance at Rick whose gaze was still locked on the horizon. It wasn’t the first time they’d watched a sunset together— Rick always liked them—but Morty could never guess what was going through Rick’s mind in those moments. It was as though he were far away, lost in a place where no one could reach him.

Morty couldn’t stand it.

He abruptly shrugged off his faux fur coat, mentally noting that he’d have to get it dry-cleaned after all the shit it’d gone through.

“I-I love you, Rick. You know that, right?” he asked, taking the old man’s wrinkled hand in his own. He knew it wasn’t the best approach, knew how easily he could use his charms to seduce Rick again to get what he wanted.

He liked sex, and he wanted to share that with Rick, but sex alone wouldn’t be enough to express the feelings in his heart. The more time he spent with Rick, the stronger his feelings became. It was getting harder to hold them in, but the fear that maybe Rick didn’t feel the same way had always kept him quiet. Now, however, he knew he had to say it.

"I love you," he confessed again, eyes to the ground. It was the truest thing he’d ever felt. Next to that one feeling, everything else was a sham.

He could only hope Rick felt the same way.

Slipping his hand free, he turned away, suddenly all too aware that an invisible line had been crossed, something that couldn’t be undone.

Gnarled hands grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to face Rick again.

Backlit against the setting sun, Rick's hair resembled a silvery halo, the vision so striking that Morty’s lollipop fell forgotten from his mouth as they grabbed at each in another desperate kiss. Morty's fingers clung to Rick’s sleeves, pulling on them to lower his hands to his hips, right where he wanted them. He felt Rick smile against his mouth.

“You’re certainly uninhibited.”

"W-with you, always," the young man replied, cuddling in even closer.

Rick grabbed his ass, the mounds fitting his palms perfectly, fingers digging into the soft flesh. “I'm gonna give it to y-you deEEUGHep, Morty. I should warn you, it’s like a baby’s arm holding an apple.”

"You're too romantic, Rick," the boy said, sarcastically. “N-n-no wonder you get all the girls.” Morty stepped back until he was up against the hood of the ship.

“S-such an eager boy, MoUUURty. You turned me on just now,” Rick said with a carnivorous smile.

He leaned so close over the boy that Morty could smell the subtle nuance of his aftershave. Rick bit his ear.

“You think I’d go easy on you just because I was a little buzzed? I’ve been binge-drinking since before you were a—UUURP—twinkle in your dad’s eye, Morty.”

Rick began to massage his ass sensually, his fingers dipping into the boy’s pink bikini. When Morty shuddered, the scientist only continued, slipping his hand around him to toy shamelessly with his dick.

“I’m gonna fuck you, Morty. I'm gonna take you right here on the hood of my ship, and I don’t give a shit what anyone will say, MoUUUURty. I wanna fuck you like a whore tonight. And I know you want it too.”

Morty shimmied his bikini down his thighs in reply, grinding against Rick until he could finally kick them away onto the sand.

Rick bit when he kissed him roughly, all teeth and greed and excitement.

“Good boy, Morty!”

 

One moment, they were exchanging passionate kisses, pressing impossibly close to one another as though there were no tomorrows; the next, Morty found himself sprawled out over the hood, Rick groping his ass.

“You really are a little whore, Morty,” snarled the scientist when he’d slipped a finger into Morty only to find it coated with spunk. “When the hell did you find time to—”

“At the club,” the teenager answered impatiently. “The green guy with the fins. We did it in the bathroom…”

Rick gritted his teeth, and he crushed his weight against him. It was exactly what Morty wanted, and he arched his back, tensing the backs of his thighs to press against the old man in obvious invitation.

Sex with the alien had been good, but he knew it would be even better with Rick if he made sure to take care of him.

The scientist leaned over Morty and growled into his ear, “Are you trying to make me jeaUURPlous, Morty? Your little ass is still f-full of cum. You coulda at least asked him to wear a rubber.”

“I don’t like condoms,” the teen whispered, turning slowly to reach his lips. “I prefer going bareback so that I can—I want to feel them enjoy it.”

Arousal shot through him as he heard Rick swear under his breath. He could feel the head of his erection nudging insistently against his ass, pressing its way in. Morty considered playing the tease, making Rick take him by force. But he’d waited too long for this moment. There wasn’t room for anything other than the desire that burned inside him, that same desire now pushing him forward as the old man entered him.

“Aahn!”

“God, you’re...so fuckin’ tight, Morty,” Rick gasped as he inched his way in, holding Morty’s hips in a deathgrip. “How can you be so—ah!”

When Rick’s hips finally met Morty’s bottom, Morty shuddered, squealing.

Rick grabbed his long blond hair and gave a satisfied moan. “I’ve always wanted… Holy fuck, Morty…”

The boy’s body was lithe but firm and muscular. He managed to hold his own beneath Rick’s thrusts, matching the brutal pace without complaint. Rick caressed the inside of Morty’s thigh with one hand while the other grabbed his dick caught beneath his belly to stroke it roughly and carelessly.

The coarse palm against his sensitive cock sent pulses of pleasure through Morty as Rick pummeled him. It wasn’t long before he found himself orgasming.

Rick nibbled at his ear, chiding, “Th-that what you call stamina, M-MoURPty? You’re—you’re worse than a fuckin’ virgin, Morty.”

Morty didn’t have a witty comeback to Rick’s teases, he was so far gone, panting heavily, drool spilling from the corner of his mouth. His climax left him disconnected from the world for several seconds, and he was struggling just to get his feet back under him.

Rick had no shame taking advantage of Morty’s compromised state, and he increased his pace, slamming the plump, warm flesh with abandon. When Morty finally came back to his senses, he squealed under the impacts as they sent sparks of pain through his still tender and hypersensitive bottom. But even the pain was arousing as he saw Rick sweat with effort.

Rick’s thrusts became more frantic until finally he froze, crushing Morty’s waist beneath his fingers, emptying his seed into him with an obscene groan.

Morty’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he grabbed the ship’s grille as he relished the sensations in his ass.

Rick pulled out as soon as he began to soften, cum leaking from the boy’s ass to ooze down his slim legs.

The scientist whistled before placing a toothpick between his teeth. “You look so fuckin’ sexy l-like that, Morty, I oughtta—UURP—take a picture,” he said, already pulling out his phone.

Morty heard the distinct click of the camera shutter. He spun around quickly, keeping a hand on the hood to steady himself. “You’d better not post that on Twitter, Rick!”

“Too late,” Rick smirked, adding his dimension as a tag so that other Ricks could find it easily. “DoUURPn’t worry, Morty. Your mom only follows me on Snapchat and Facebook.”

The boy pouted and raked his fingers through his discolored and sweaty hair to lift it away from his face. “That’s not funny, Rick.”

The old man clucked his tongue. “Jesus, Morty. Quit being a little crybaURPby. I told you it’s fine.”

“That’s not it,” Morty muttered, lowering his eyes. “It’s just—it was our first time, so I was hoping that, y’know, i-it’d just be between us.”

He turned away, blushing, knowing that it was pathetic. For Rick, it’d been nothing more than a fling, just another notch in his bedpost. And he should be fine with that. If it was all he could have anyway, there was no point in asking for more.

But suddenly Rick was on him again, and he could feel his erection against his bottom.

“What?” he exclaimed, looking over his shoulder in surprise.

“You’re so hot,” came Rick’s reply, when he slipped inside him without pretense.

Morty groaned as the thick rod slowly penetrated him.

Rick ran his fingers across Morty’s lips as he leaned in to whisper in his ear: “Your little whore—UURP—mouth could suck cock all day. Ah! You say the cutest things, Morty. Nngh! Makes me wanna—wanna spoil you. God, baby, you’re so fuckin’ good! Roll those hips for me!”

Titillated by his lover’s dirty talk—Rick knew just how to push Morty’s buttons—the young stripper undulated his hips, rubbing the small globes of his ass sensually against his grandfather’s thighs and drawing his dick deeper into him.

Rick ran his hands up Morty’s torso and then slipped them under his turquoise mini-top to amuse himself by pinching his nipples gently, sending a surge of pleasure through Morty.

“Aah! Rick!”

“I should pierce you here,” murmured the old man, his voice deep with arousal. “Maybe put a tramp stamp on your sweet, little ass too. Show everyone that it’s mine, that you’re mine, M-Morty!”

“Yes!” wailed the teenager fervently. “I’m yours! Ah! Mark me!”

“Oh, baby,” the scientist snarled, kissing his neck. “You’re—” His voice dropped to a whisper as if he didn’t want to be heard, but Morty heard it perfectly. “—all I ever wanted! Ah!”

“Yes! Yes! Yeees!” cried Morty, shuddering.

This time Rick was the first to cum, long, hot ropes of ejaculate painting Morty’s insides. He pressed his balls firmly against Morty’s backside as he emptied himself inside him again.

Morty knew that his stomach would be aching after this, but at the moment he couldn’t care less. He was riding such a physical and emotional high that all he could concentrate on was squeezing his muscles around Rick’s dick that tethered them together. He knew this wouldn’t last forever, so he wanted to savor it for as long as he could, wanted to feel the rigidity, the heat, the sensation of being filled after a lifetime of feeling so empty…

“Babe…” Rick mumbled against the soft flesh of his shoulder.

The nickname stirred up butterflies in Morty’s stomach. It felt both so unreal and so right to Morty, and he knew he could definitely get used to it.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Rick said through a grin. Morty noticed Rick’s toothpick on the hood of the ship, and automatically put it between his lips, needing to fill the void the lollipop had left.

The old man laughed. “Looks like we both have an oral fixation. Can’t wait to have you on my cock again.”

“Only if you return the favor," replied Morty.

Rick gave another little laugh, an unusual but reassuring sound. “Fine. But no telling your parents.”

“What do you take me for? An idiot?”

“Always," Rick said, kissing his shoulder.

Morty punched in retaliation, and Rick burst into hysterical, uncontrollable laughter.

The young man couldn’t help but smile too. After all, this was the man he loved, loved more than sex itself.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter.com/futagogo
> 
> Part 2 coming soon!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Far from Miami](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9659381) by [AndersAndrew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndersAndrew/pseuds/AndersAndrew), [futagogo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/futagogo/pseuds/futagogo)




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